


never will abolish

by Kess, taywen



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Twins, Gen, High Chaos Corvo Attano, Low Chaos Corvo Attano, POV Multiple, Podfic & Podficced Works
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-07-26 04:33:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7560274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kess/pseuds/Kess, https://archiveofourown.org/users/taywen/pseuds/taywen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>a throw of the dice never will abolish chance</i>
</p><p>The Empress appoints a pair of twins as her Royal Protectors. This changes a few things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	never will abolish

**Author's Note:**

> title from Stéphane Mallarmé's poem, "Un Coup De Dés".

[ please right click and save as to download it,](http://kesskay.parakaproductions.com/Podfic/Dishonored/never%20will%20abolish/never%20will%20abolish.mp3) stream it on ao3 on the player below, or continue reading if you would prefer to experience this fanfiction in text form.

[transcript of an audiograph found amongst the possessions of Hiram Burrows]

Empress Jessamine pushes boundaries in many ways, much to the chagrin of those tasked with supporting her rule. She cares more about the commonfolk than the nobles whose taxes fund her rule. She appointed two Serkonans as her Royal Protectors. Serkonans! Foreigners! _Savages_!

It’s absurd. They don’t even have proper names. They insist that their name is Corvo Attano, as if they were the same person. They might as well be. It’s impossible to tell them apart, even when they stand side by side. _Especially_ when they stand side by side. And the Empress simply indulges them, allowing them to wear identical uniforms and act with impunity-

[a pause; indistinct sounds-- muttering? papers rustling?]

Oh, there are differences between the two but they’re more subtle. One is a rabid dog just waiting to shed its leash; he enjoys killing any who oppose his mistress, no matter their station in life. People tend to call him Attano. And the other- we call him Corvo, though either of the twins will answer to both. He seems polite enough, but he’ll have you out on the street and disgraced the second you turn your back.

Vicious, both of them, and utterly loyal to Jessamine Kaldwin. As long as they stand at her side, none would dare to move against her…

[end of audiograph]

* * *

He stood at the rail of the ship, his gaze fixed upon the familiar shape of Dunwall’s skyline as it grew steadily closer; he didn’t so much as twitch as Captain Curnow stepped up beside him.

“Eager to be home, Lord Protector?” Curnow asked, glancing at him sidelong.

“Yes,” he said curtly, in no mood to mince words. It seemed that all he’d done these past few months was smile and make polite small talk with the rulers of the other Isles, only for them to rebuff him again and again when he asked for aid with the plague ravaging Dunwall.

And now they had the nerve to blockade the capital.

The leather of his gloves creaked in protest as his hands curled into fists in remembrance. He wanted nothing more than to tear the letters tucked into his coat to shreds; they felt only like tangible evidence of his failure to carry out his Empress’ will.

“Perhaps Sokolov’s found a cure in the meantime,” Curnow said.

“Perhaps,” he echoed, sounding as convinced as Curnow had. If anyone was going to find a cure, it would probably be Sokolov - but the man had been working at a cure since the early cases of the plague had been reported. All his Elixir seemed to do was prevent infection - so long as the drinker could get their hands on enough of the stuff.

They’d passed Kingsparrow Island a few minutes earlier, though the pace of their ocean trawler had slowed to a crawl as they travelled further up the river.

Small boats that would be tossed about on the open seas darted past their ship; the relatively larger cargo ships outstripped them easily. River traffic had slowed considerably in the wake of the plague, leaving the waterways open for swifter travel for those willing to brave it.

The back of his left hand prickled as another cargo ship overtook them. Most of the men on deck had the kind of vapour masks workers at oil refineries wore. He frowned, leaning forward slightly to try to get a better look at them.

“Is something wrong?” Curnow asked.

He glanced at Curnow, then nodded his head at the smaller river vessel. “What do you make of that?”

“Are those- vapour masks?” Curnow shook his head, but he didn’t seem worried. “Maybe it’s a new preventative measure, to lower your chances of getting the plague.”

“It could be,” he said slowly, his gaze lingering on the ship as it continued upriver ahead of them. He lost sight of it a moment later, but his sense of unease didn’t diminish.

* * *

“There you are!” Emily cried as he disembarked from the boat. He caught her easily, swinging her into his arms with what felt like the first genuine smile he’d given in months.

Curnow coughed and excused himself, heading towards the Tower proper; he paid the captain little mind.

“I knew you’d be back today,” Emily told him gravely as he set her back down. Her hand settled into his own and she tugged him along, out of the water lock and into the sunlight.

“Did you?” he asked, amused.

“Yes, I did. Mother didn’t believe me, though, and neither did Corvo.” She scowled briefly, but the look cleared as she grinned back up at him. “So they can wait to see you. Let’s play hide and seek first!”

“Corvo hasn’t been playing with you?” he asked. Perhaps they’d been more busy than he thought-- he doubted the plague had let up at all, and with Corvo carrying out the duties of two men--

“He _has_ , but… he’s not very good,” Emily said, pitying. “You’re much better.”

He snorted, relieved. “All right. Who’s it?” he asked as he followed her to the small courtyard below.

“Me! You go hide. I hope you’re still good at this.”

“Go easy on me,” he said, dry. “Those foreign diplomats weren’t very interested in hide and seek.”

Emily scoffed and trotted over to the wall, turning towards it and beginning to count. “One… Two…”

He cast his eyes over the courtyard, looking for a suitable place to hide. Usually they played indoors, or in the gardens surrounding the Tower. There weren’t many options here, but--

He hurried to the far side of the courtyard, crouching behind a metal barrier that had seemingly been forgotten and left in the sun. Spare parts for Sokolov’s latest improvements to the water lock, perhaps.

“...Ten! Ready or not, here I come!” Emily called. Her footsteps scuffed against the ground as she moved about the courtyard, allowing him to roughly track her progress without leaning out to look.

It was one of Dunwall’s rare sunny days, warm enough for the pampered nobles to complain but comfortable for someone born and raised in the warmer climes of Serkonos. He followed the path of some clouds across the blue sky as he listened to Emily trotting around.

The sun might not come out like this again for a while; he should enjoy it while it lasted, a brief reprieve with Emily before he had to step back into the world of politics. He allowed himself to close his eyes, his face turned up to the sun.

A shadow passed overhead. His eyes snapped open, the back of his hand prickling again. There was nothing there. It could have just been a bird, but instinct told him it wasn’t.

“All right, I give up-” Emily started to say, but he’d already sprung to his feet, his hand dropping to the hilt of his sword. “Oh, there you are- What’s wrong?” she asked, hurrying over when she saw the look on his face.

A gunshot from above shattered the stillness; he pulled Emily to him automatically, holding her close with his left hand and drawing his sword with his right.

“Mother and Corvo are up there!” Emily cried, even as another gunshot rang out. A body fell over the wall from the pavilion, collapsing into ash before it hit the ground.

The dead man had been wearing a vapour mask, and dark clothes that he’d bet were the same as the ones he’d seen on that cargo ship earlier.

“Hold on to me, and stay close once we’re up there,” he ordered, picking her up. Emily wrapped her arms around his neck tightly, her small frame trembling only slightly. The back of his hand burned as he drew on the magic of the void; a moment later, he appeared crouched on the stone floor of pavilion.

His twin was there, his sword already streaked with blood, facing off against several more of the darkly-dressed men in vapour masks. They looked like whalers at a glance, but their specialized equipment belied that impression. Assassins, then, though they hadn’t had much success: Corvo and Jessamine both appeared unharmed.

“Mother!” Emily squirmed out of his grasp and hurried over to Jessamine.

Corvo turned at the sound of her voice, and the nearest assassin took that as an opportunity to attack.

The vapour mask muffled the assassin’s cry of pain as he ran the man through, the lenses too opaque for him to see fear or regret or anything else in the man’s eyes. He shoved the body off his blade and turned to the remaining two assassins. Corvo’s shot picked off another as he watched.

But more assassins appeared, materializing out of the void. One of them wore red, his scarred face uncovered. The assassin in red looked familiar, but he couldn’t place the man’s face immediately; a wanted gang leader, probably. He seemed to be the only one with the mark, its glow just fading beneath the glove he wore.

Colour leached out of the world, turning it a murky grey as time ground to a halt. Corvo.

“Shit,” the assassin said, his rough voice loud in the silence as he realized the magnitude of his mistake. Jessamine and Emily were immobilized, but so were the assassin’s subordinates; he was outnumbered now. “This wasn’t-”

He exchanged a look with Corvo, ignoring the assassin’s sputtering. Two months since they’d last laid eyes on each other, but it felt like no time at all. There was no confusion about what they would do, no hesitation or dissonance. He darted back to cover Jessamine and Emily, leaving Corvo to cross blades with the assassin.

“Who hired you?” Corvo snarled as they locked swords. The assassin retreated first, disengaging and attempting to take advantage of Corvo’s brief moment of imbalance. But Corvo was fast enough to block the assassin’s slash, and they were off again. The courtyard rang with the strikes of their blades.

The assassin was good with a sword. Good enough to hold his own against Corvo, who wasn’t showing any sort of restraint. He frowned as he watched them fight, alert for any attempt on the assassin’s part to finish the job he’d come for.

Colour and sound filtered back into focus as time resumed. The assassin had been pushed to the edge of the pavilion by the furious onslaught of Corvo’s attacks, though he had no trouble dodging another slash and gaining some distance between them.

“Fall back,” the assassin snapped at his subordinates, his mark glowing. He appeared on the roof of the water lock a moment later. The whalers followed, blinking away after their leader, who spared little more than a glance to see if they were still with him.

“Try to take one of them _alive_ ,” Jessamine ordered as Corvo gave chase. She tsked as he caught one halfway down the water lock, the snap of the whaler’s leg giving way audible to those standing in the pavilion. A muffled shout accompanied Corvo severing the whaler's left hand. He crumpled to the roof top, clutching at his ruined arm. A blow to the back of his head with the hilt of Corvo’s sword, and the whaler was down.

The rest of the assassins had long since disappeared, abandoning their comrade to his fate. Corvo hefted the injured whaler over his shoulder and blinked back to them, dropping the man carelessly onto the stone floor as the guards finally decided to make an appearance along with Burrows and Campbell, of all people.

He was acutely aware of the blood dripping from his sword, though he couldn’t find it in himself to regret it. There was a time for alternatives, and the heat of battle with the lives of Jessamine and Emily at stake was not it.

The group came to a halt at the foot of the steps. He watched Burrows, taking in the way the Spymaster’s eyes darted from him to Corvo, what little colour he possessed draining from his face.

An interesting reaction.

“What happened here?” Burrows demanded.

“I could ask you the same, Hiram,” Jessamine said coolly, stepping forward. Emily came over to his side, taking his hand again as she had earlier; her grip was much tighter this time. “Assassins just made an attempt on my life.”

“And you think the Spymaster is involved?” Campbell’s incredulity sounded forced, but that was so often the case with him that it was impossible to tell when he portrayed genuine emotion.

“No,” Jessamine said, after a measured pause. “But what use is a spymaster who doesn’t uncover plots against me?”

“An oversight,” Burrows said hurriedly. “I- I can only offer my sincerest apologies. I have been so busy with attempting to stem the tide of the plague that other matters have fallen by the wayside. It will not happen again.”

“Well, even if it _does_ ,” Corvo said, stalking forward to stand at Jessamine’s side, bloody blade still at the ready, “we’ll be here to protect Her Majesty.”

He smiled in agreement, baring his teeth at Burrows.

Burrows’ throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Of course. How fortuitous that you arrived early, Corvo.” His eyes darted between them as he tried to discern which of them had been away on the tour.

It probably didn’t help that both of them had blood staining their hands. Usually he tried to avoid it, though Corvo had few qualms about spilling blood.

“And you managed to capture one of the villains,” Campbell added, glancing at the prone body behind them. “They must be heretics. How else could they have snuck past the guards undetected? The Abbey would be happy to take him out of your hands; we’ll have him singing in no time--”

“No,” Jessamine said. “Corvo will oversee his interrogation.”

Campbell looked like he wanted to protest, but he subsided at a look from Burrows. _Very_ interesting; he would have to put pressure on his contact within Holger Square for more information.

“As you wish,” Burrows said. “I’ll be busy trying to ferret out the culprits of this heinous crime, but if you need any help…” He glanced between the twins again.

“My Overseers are at your disposal as well, should you require additional security or some other aid,” Campbell put in.

“I appreciate your cooperation,” Jessamine said. “Guardsmen, one of you escort Spymaster Burrows and High Overseer Campbell; I don’t want the assassins to try again. Whoever’s left, help Corvo transport the assassin to the dungeon, then return to your duties.” She turned to Corvo as the guards moved to follow her orders. “Your brother and I will retire to my office.”

“Can I help Corvo with the interrogation?” Emily asked, peering around Corvo’s bulk to look at the assassin. Corvo himself looked a bit alarmed at the prospect, as well he should.

“No, dear,” Jessamine said. “Why don’t you come with me and listen to Corvo’s news from the other Isles?”

“Okay,” Emily said, dragging the syllables out. It obviously wasn’t her first choice, but he didn’t take it personally. She was a spirited child who found lectures boring; likely she imagined his report would be the same. If only “boring” was the worst word that could describe it.

Falling into step at Jessamine’s side was second nature, something in him slotting back into place and pushing back the exhaustion his whirlwind trip around the Isles had caused him. He kept a wary eye out for the assassins, though he suspected they wouldn’t make another attempt - at least not so soon.

“Did you eat lots of good food?” Emily asked, sticking close to her mother’s side, opposite him.

“I suppose I did,” he said. The quality of the food hadn’t been anywhere near the top of his list of concerns; so long as it wasn’t poisoned, he hadn’t cared what it tasted like.

“Did you bring me anything back?”

“Emily,” Jessamine said, but she sounded more amused than scolding.

“Oh, like a present?” he said. “I knew I was forgetting something.”

“Corvo!” Emily shot him a disappointed pout.

He smiled back at her. “It’s in my trunk, along with the gifts for Empress Jessamine and Corvo.”

“Yay! I can’t wait! What is it?” Emily skipped over to his side, grabbing his hand. While he was glad that she didn’t seem to have taken the assassination attempt to heart, he wasn’t certain how much he should indulge her just then.

“We’ll look at them later, Emily,” Jessamine said, saving him. “Why don’t you make him a drawing of what you’ve been up to while he was away?”

“It was mostly lessons,” Emily whispered to him. “Not very exciting. Oh! But Corvo was showing me how to do a Tyvian chokehold…”

They reached Jessamine’s office then and, after he checked for assassins or other intruders, Emily hurried to the small desk to the side of Jessamine’s own, pulling out a fresh sheet of paper and some crayons.

Jessamine made her way more sedately to her desk, taking a seat as he shut and locked the door. The curtains were open, letting in the rare sunlight. He twitched them shut, blocking the view.

“What news of the Isles?” Jessamine asked.

He took a moment to study her - the lines in her face that had not been there two months earlier, the shadows beneath her eyes and the determined set of her mouth. If she was shaken by what had happened in the past half hour, she gave no sign of it. He wouldn’t have expected any less of her.

“Not good,” he said, pulling the letters out of his pocket. He thought to say more, but couldn’t trust himself to remain calm; he didn’t want to scare Emily with his anger, or alert any passing servants to the fact that something was wrong.

Jessamine’s lips thinned as she took the envelopes from him, slitting them open with brisk movements. The letter opener was an ornate thing that he vaguely recognized as a gift from one of the more prominent noble families - the Carmines, if he wasn’t mistaken. It was expensive but useless; he doubted the blade would do much damage, though applied with enough desperation or experience, perhaps-

“Cowards!” Jessamine snapped, tossing the letters onto her desk, careless of how they fell. She slumped back in her chair, rubbing the tips of her fingers against her temples. “They’re going to blockade us!”

“Is that bad?” Emily asked, looking up from her drawing.

“It will be fine, Emily,” Jessamine said more calmly. She took a deep breath, frowning down at the damning sheets of parchment. “Arrange a meeting with the Admiral,” she told him. “You know-”

“-Havelock.” He had a knack for names and faces that his twin lacked - more because it didn’t interest Corvo than any inability to remember.

“Yes.” She smiled at him, a faint shadow of the real thing. There wasn’t much cause for smiling now, though - he could hardly blame her for it. “I’m glad you’re back, Corvo.”

“As am I. I only wish I brought better news,” he said.

Jessamine shook her head. “You put my heart at ease. We’ll find a way to cure the plague yet.”

He had his doubts about that but back in Dunwall with her, Corvo and Emily, he found it easier to ignore them. Jessamine had never failed at anything she’d put her mind to, and he would support her every step of the way.

* * *

[transcript of an audiograph found abandoned in a rudshore apartment, near the former chamber of commerce]

I don’t quite know why I’m recording this. Some of the others already read my journal; this will only make it easier for them to know my thoughts. Not all of us can read.

[a sigh]

Daud has never slipped up like this before. We’ve failed contracts in the past, but as long as I’ve followed him, Daud himself has never left a target alive.

I don’t think he failed, or if he did-- it’s not his fault. How could he have known that the Attano twins had the mark? We knew they were some of the best swordsmen in the empire, but for both of them to bear the Outsider’s gifts as well…

Some of the others are already muttering about it. They think Daud is weak for pulling out before he finished the job. But they weren’t there. They didn’t see how the Royal Protector cut through our own; it was like they weren’t even there. When his twin showed up too, I knew it was over.

[a pause; the speaker’s steps can be heard in the background]

My loyalty is without question; my proficiency with the abilities granted by the arcane bond are proof of that. I wonder if the others can say the same. Whole patrols have gone missing since our failure at Dunwall Tower, and I can’t help but think that a lack of faith in Daud is the cause, or at least part of it.

Or perhaps they simply don’t stand a chance against whichever twin is hunting us down, with or without the powers Daud gave us. I hope Daud decides what to do about this soon, or there may not be any of us left...

[end of audiograph]

* * *

“You should try again,” Billie said flatly. It was what she’d been saying from the beginning, ever since Daud and what remained of the men he’d brought to the Tower had made it back to Rudshore. “You’ve fought and bested people bearing the mark before.”

“Not two of them at once, and not trained killers,” Daud retorted, his patience long since worn thin.

“One of them is tracking you down as we speak. A patrol in the Estate District missed their check in, so he’s probably there now. You could take the other twin and kill the Empress-”

“You don’t think security hasn’t tripled since my last attempt?” Daud paced behind his desk, trying to ignore his craving for a cigarette. He’d run out over the past few days, and tensions were running high enough that he didn’t want to send any of his men on a supply run for something as frivolous as that.

Billie crossed her arms, otherwise unfazed by his annoyance. “Burrows could arrange another hole in security.”

“Because that worked so well last time,” Daud said scathingly. “Besides, whichever twin is guarding the Empress wouldn’t fall for it.”

“So you’re scared of them.”

“Did I say that?” Daud came to a halt and glared at her, but Billie met his gaze squarely.

“That’s what the men are saying.”

“Since when have you cared what the men say?”

“Since you fucked up the biggest job of your career.”

“ _Burrows_ didn’t hold up his end of the deal,” Daud snarled.

Billie remained unimpressed. “And now he and Campbell are scouring the city for you too. They’re closing in, and you’re sitting here brooding.”

“What else do you expect me to do? I can’t try again-”

“We could leave the city, sir.”

Daud rounded on the sentry, who was watching the tableau between him and Billie unfold rather than doing his _job_ and keeping an eye out for Corvo Attano.

Billie scoffed. “No, we can’t. Daud has his pride, and it wouldn’t survive getting beaten by a pair of freaky twins _and_ running away with his tail between his legs.”

“Get out,” Daud snapped.

Billie raised an eyebrow at him before slipping her mask back on. She gave him an ironic salute and disappeared. Footsteps on the metal platform overlooking the flooded street outside signalled the sentry’s return to his post.

Daud circled back to his desk, and the documents he’d compiled there. There was another way to turn this situation around, but he wasn’t certain if he wanted to resort to it-- Billie’s claims about his pride rang a little too close to the truth for his liking.

On the other hand, he could leave the city - a risky prospect, given the rumours of a blockade by the other Isles and the already reduced maritime traffic - or he could wait for someone to find him and try to take him in.

He’d have put his money on Burrows being the first to find him, given the man’s paranoia, but that was before he’d crossed blades with the twins.

“Dissension in the ranks?”

Daud stiffened at the words, his hand dropping to the hilt of his blade- in time to feel the cold press of steel against his throat, and a vise-like grip around his left wrist, pinning his marked hand flat against the desk.

“Corvo,” he said stiffly. “I wondered when you’d find your way here.”

A soft huff of laughter stirred the hair at the back of his neck; Daud fought not flinch. “I would’ve been here sooner, but Corvo asked me to show some restraint.”

So, this was the bloodthirsty twin, then. Daud snorted. “Does that mean you’ll be taking me in for judgment?”

“They set aside a whole cell block in Coldridge for you and your men. But I could slit your throat right here if you’d prefer.” Corvo’s tone made it clear which option _he_ would prefer.

Daud flexed his wrist, firing a crossbow bolt into the hand Corvo had curled around his wrist; the man released him with a curse, his blade jerking back-

And finding nothing but air. Daud reappeared on the other side of the desk, his sword drawn. He could feel blood trickling down his neck, though he ignored the minor sting.

Corvo tossed the bolt aside. Blood dripped from his fingers, but it was little more than a scratch; the mechanism of Daud’s wristbow couldn’t engage fully, preventing the attack from causing any real damage.

“Not going to call your men?” Corvo’s expression was furious as he stalked around the desk.

Daud’s gaze darted to the observation platform behind Corvo; he could just make out the boots of the sentry. But if Corvo had killed him, his body would be gone- so he’d chosen to incapacitate rather than kill.

“Because that worked so well last time.” Corvo would cut through them faster than wet paper without the Empress to protect.

“What you said earlier-” Corvo stopped with a few feet between them, though his stance and expression remained wary, “-about Burrows not holding up his end of some deal.”

“Did I say that? I can’t recall,” Daud lied, cursing inwardly. How long had Corvo been watching? Billie said he’d been in the Estate District, which was all the way across the river, and sneaking past the sentries Daud had posted throughout Rudshore couldn’t have been an easy task-

“Who. Hired. You,” Corvo snarled, advancing once more.

Daud stood his ground. Corvo obviously hadn’t heard enough to deduce who had hired Daud - or else he wanted explicit confirmation. “You don’t expect me to turn on my employer over a few missing men and some threats.”

“If you won’t talk then I might as well kill you.” That was all the warning Daud got before Corvo crossed the distance between them in a single transversal. His strikes were just as fierce as Daud remembered, the force of them jarring up his arm as he blocked.

Corvo incorporated his powers into his attacks with an ease and fluidity that spoke of long practice. He tried using blasts of wind to knock Daud off balance, but Daud countered it by pulling Corvo to him with his tethering ability. Not for the first time, Daud wondered how long Corvo had had the mark.

And then he summoned _rats_. It had almost been enjoyable fighting with Corvo until that point - it wasn’t often that Daud had the opportunity to go all out against an opponent. But the rats were a different story.

Daud cursed and darted up the stairs to the loft but the swarm flowed up the steps after him, forcing Daud to clamber awkwardly onto the top of the bookshelf. The rats couldn’t reach him there-

But Corvo could.

The air in his chest left in a rush as Corvo’s weight bore him down, his head rebounding painfully off the floor and making his vision swim for several long seconds. Enough time for Corvo to disarm him, and pin his left hand down by the forearm rather than the wrist.

The rats streamed back down the stairs, forming a circle around them - though they held off from attacking for the moment. Daud focussed on Corvo’s face instead, blurry as it was given his disorientation. It was better than the glint of beady eyes and sharp teeth.

“I’ll ask you one more time: Who hired you?” Corvo’s words were low and furious, punctuated by rapid breaths; he’d been fighting as hard as Daud had, which was- gratifying.

“How do I know you won’t just kill me as soon as I tell you?”

Corvo jarred him against the floor; Daud bit back a groan. “I can go through your men. Those damn music boxes are keeping them in Coldridge now, but once you’re gone those won’t be necessary-”

“I want a full pardon for my past crimes,” Daud said quickly, spitting the words into Corvo’s face. Corvo stared at him in disbelief, stunned into silence. Daud hurried on, “And the release of my subordinates, and pardons for them too. And the Empress won’t come after us, through you and your twin, or anyone else. We’ll leave Dunwall.”

A muscle in Corvo’s jaw jumped, his eyes narrowing as he glared down at Daud. “You give me proof that I can bring back to the Empress, and I’ll tell her your terms. But I can’t guarantee she’ll give you those pardons.”

Daud made to sit up, and Corvo shoved him back down again. There was going to be a lump on the back of his head later tonight, Daud just knew it. He already had a headache; wouldn’t make much difference.

“You want proof?” Daud tipped his head at the desk. “It’s all there, every coded correspondence and record of payment- every contract Burrows ever made with me. Including the latest one, to kill Empress Jessamine.”

“Burrows,” Corvo repeated, his grip slackening before he remembered himself. “Corvo did say-” His gaze refocused on Daud, unnerving in its intensity. “Is Campbell involved too?”

“Burrows paid me with banknotes from Campbell’s account.” And Campbell had commissioned Daud to remove some of his more vocal, and less tractable, rival Overseers in the past.

“Bastards,” Corvo spat.

Daud shrugged as well as he could, pinned down and beaten as he was. He couldn’t say whether Burrows and Campbell were any worse than his other clients - more ambitious, certainly; but they were hardly the first who’d resorted to Daud to solve their problems.

Corvo stood, the rats melting away into the void as if they’d never been there at all. His sword gleamed in the weak light streaming through the hole in the roof, clean for the moment.

Daud sat up gingerly, leaving his blade where it had fallen for the time being. Corvo seemed even more agitated by the news than he’d been by Daud’s taunting. Professionalism, pride in his skills and a mostly-forgotten drive to carve his own mark on the world had led Daud to this point; he couldn’t say what drove Corvo, but the furious light in his eyes was unnerving.

He flinched in spite of himself when Corvo’s gaze returned to him; he had a second to raise his hand before the hilt of Corvo’s blade slammed into the side of his head, knocking him out cold.

* * *

[transcript of an audiograph found tucked in a dog-eared history of the empire]

My tutor says I’m supposed to write my thoughts down in a journal, but I think he wants me to use _real_ writing and I don’t like it much. Printing gets the message across just the same, and that’s how Corvo writes.

Mr. Fennel always gets a funny look on his face when I say that Corvo does something a different way. Lots of people do, actually. Like Spymaster Burrows.

Well, I’m not going to practice writing but I do want to put my thoughts out there, so here goes:

Things have changed around here lately. Everyone is upset by the plague, I know they are, even if they try to hide it. I thought it would get better when Corvo came back, but it-- didn’t, really.

I think maybe it got worse, though it wasn’t Corvo’s fault. It’s because of him that the assassin couldn’t finish the job.

That’s a weird way to put it. “Finish the job.” It’s a-- what did Mr. Fennel call it? A euphemism. I don’t like to think about what would have happened if the assassin - if Daud - had done it.

No one says his name around me, though I’ve heard Mommy and Corvo talking about him when they think I can’t hear. Do they think if I know what Daud’s called, he’ll get me or something? I don’t know why even Corvo acts like that. He’d protect me, I know he would. Both of them. Just like they protect Mommy.

[a pause]

And now Corvo’s out trying to find Daud. I know he’ll be okay, but I can’t help thinking about what’ll happen if he’s _not_. Everyone else is worried too though. Mommy doesn’t smile as much as she used to, and Corvo barely plays hide and seek with me anymore.

I caught Spymaster Burrows in his office, pacing around and muttering to himself. He looked like a ghost. I think it’s partly because he always wears black and he’s so pale. If he at least had some hair--

Ew. It’s weird to think of him with hair.

[end of audiograph]

* * *

It had been nine days since the attempt on Jessamine’s life, nine days since Corvo had returned with refusals and threats from the Isles, nine days in which his twin scoured Dunwall’s streets in search of the assassin. She had seen him only rarely in that time; it almost felt as if nothing had changed, and Corvo was still away petitioning for aid.

Corvo’s gaze snapped to her when she straightened, setting aside her pen.

“Empress?” he prompted as the silence dragged on. While he was typically more patient than his twin, he had few defenses against her.

“Captain Curnow seems distracted recently,” Jessamine said mildly.

Corvo did not flinch, though she would have expected no less of him. “He’s busy finding out who can be trusted among the City Watch.”

“You two have been closer since the tour.” Jessamine couldn’t help the brief, bitter twist of her mouth. It seemed like such a waste of time now, especially given what might have happened had Corvo not returned two days early-- but it was useless to dwell on what might have happened and ignore what continued to unfold before her.

The corner of his mouth twitched, a miniscule motion that someone less versed in reading the enigma of the twins might have missed. “Isn’t that the natural result of spending extended periods of time in another’s company?”

“But I’m not sure the good captain appreciates how thoroughly you’ve been inspecting the other guardsmen,” Jessamine mused, as if she hadn't heard him.

Corvo couldn’t suppress his smirk then. “He can’t expect me to show lenience simply because we’re friends.”

“No, I suppose not. Your reputation is well-known, after all.”

“Exactly.” Corvo nodded, looking smug of all things. Jessamine didn't roll her eyes, though it was a close thing.

A knock interrupted them, the newcomer entering a moment after she bade them do so.

“Corvo,” Jessamine said, genuinely relieved to see him. Attano could take care of himself - both of the twins could - but he was up against a gang of supernatural assassins, led by the notorious Knife of Dunwall. Such a group could give even the exceptional twins pause.

“Empress.” Attano’s expression was difficult to read, rendered further so by the bow he dipped into. Jessamine stifled her impulse to frown; the twins didn’t stand on that kind of ceremony when it was just the three of them.

Corvo stiffened as another person followed Attano in; Jessamine’s smile, already fading, shifted into the polite mask she wore in court. Her voice was similarly cordial as she greeted the other woman.

“Lady Waverly. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Empress Jessamine.” Waverly Boyle bowed, the movement neither too shallow nor too deep; if doing so rankled her, there was no indication of it on her face when she straightened once more. “I realize that this is quite sudden, but I must speak with you frankly, Your Majesty. Recent events have unfolded so swiftly that there was hardly time to pursue conventional channels.”

Jessamine had few friends among the nobility; the Boyle sisters had never counted among that number. Waverly was only a few years Jessamine’s senior, but they’d never been more than passing acquaintances.

It was perhaps a consequence of their families. Lord Boyle had never supported Euhorn Kaldwin’s more progressive initiatives, and Jessamine was considered an even more radical ruler. Boyle’s successors, his three daughters, had taken after their father as well, continuing to espouse more conservative views that clashed with Jessamine’s idealistic visions of a more equal Dunwall.

As such, she couldn’t imagine what had driven Waverly to approach her now. Something major, obviously; Waverly was the most cautious of the Boyles, as far as Jessamine knew.

“They won’t speak of what transpires here to anyone,” Jessamine said; at her look, both twins inclined their heads.

Waverly nodded, sparing them little more than a glance. “I appreciate the assurance, but I want a guarantee that what I’m about to tell you remains anonymous, and will in no way come back to my family, for good or for ill.”

Jessamine raised an eyebrow even as Corvo shifted, frowning. Waverly glanced at him again, but otherwise gave no indication of what she felt.

“If it is some secret or scandal, surely the Spymaster would be a better candidate for your confession,” Jessamine said.

Waverly’s mouth tightened; behind her, Attano looked up at the mention of Burrows, anger obvious on his face.

Jessamine spared only a moment to wonder what Attano meant to report; if it were truly urgent, he would have told her already.

“It would be a poor return of faith to turn you away now,” Jessamine said when Waverly made no reply. “If I choose to act on the information you impart to me now, I will give no indication of its origin or relation to the Boyle family.”

Waverly relaxed slightly, the rigid set of her shoulders loosening just so. “Thank you, Your Majesty.” She took a steadying breath, as if she needed to prepare herself to speak. “As you may or may not have been aware, Hiram- Spymaster Burrows- and I have been in a relationship.”

Jessamine stared at her. Corvo actually made a disbelieving sound at the admission; his twin just looked bored, as he usually did when faced with the politics of the nobility.

“So he did keep it a secret,” Waverly murmured. Then she shook her head. “No matter. It doesn’t change the fact that what he did was wrong. He tried to have you killed.”

Attano took a step forward, a hand dropping to the hilt of his sword, but he stopped when Jessamine raised her hand.

“Yet you only come forward now?” Her voice was even, a strange sort of calm settling over her. It was the same detachment that had come to her after the assassins’ attack - there would be time to reflect on the betrayal later.

“I didn’t know, I swear,” Waverly said, her composure fracturing as she cast a fearful look at the twins. “He was discontented with your- lenience towards the poor. But I never thought he would try to kill you.”

“He was planning this,” Corvo said. His tone seemed level, but it was too flat-- brittle, hinting at the fury he felt. “He wanted to send both of us away-”

“Maybe so,” Waverly said. “But Hiram- Burrows- he confided nothing to me. The only reason I know is because I overheard him recording an audiograph.”

“An audiograph.” Disbelief bled into Jessamine’s voice, but it was hardly as damning as anger or fear would have been.

Waverly nodded. “I meant to surprise him. He’d arranged to meet at his home on-” her mouth twisted, but she persevered, “-the day of the attempt on your life. To celebrate, I imagine.” She laughed, bitter. “I arrived early, in time to hear him recording a confession of his plans.”

“Plans.” Jessamine felt a bit like a broken audiograph herself, repeating Waverly’s words back to her.

“The rat plague was his fault as well. Some kind of misguided strategy to deal with the poor. But the rats couldn’t be controlled and--”

That explained the strange spread of the disease from Sokolov’s reports. The plague should have started from the docks, but instead its first cases had appeared in the poorest districts, because the man Jessamine had trusted as her Spymaster had decided to take matters into his own hands.

“Is that everything?”

Waverly’s mouth shut with an audible click. Jessamine had never seen her speechless before; quiet, of course, but never at a loss for words. “Everything, Your Majesty-?”

“Everything you know about Burrows’ schemes. Or is there more? Plans to abduct my daughter and raise her in his own image? To frame Corvo for my murder, perhaps?”

“I-I don’t know.” Waverly took a step back, then seemed to regret the blatant show of weakness. “Burrows didn’t tell me any of this. I overheard it. There could be more on the audiograph. He put it in his private safe! Perhaps he keeps records there.”

As the silence stretched out, Waverly grew paler and paler, her gaze darting from Jessamine to the twins and back again.

“Thank you,” Jessamine said at length, watching dispassionately as Waverly flinched, “for bringing these issues to my attention, Lady Boyle.”

“It was my only recourse, when I learned of Burrows’ true intentions,” Waverly said, rallying.

“Such loyalty will not be forgotten,” Jessamine said. “Though no one will learn that you were the one who told me of this, as promised.”

“Thank you.” Waverly didn’t sound entirely sincere; she still seemed off-kilter, staring at Jessamine as if she’d never seen her before.

“Now, if you’ll excuse us, my Royal Protectors and I have much to discuss.”

Waverly opened her mouth, then seemed to think better of what she meant to say. She dipped into another bow, this one lower and less-practiced than the perfect form she’d displayed at the beginning of their meeting.

As soon as the door had closed behind her, Attano strode over to Jessamine’s desk, pulling a packet of documents out of his coat.

“You found Daud.” Jessamine took the bundle from him, tugging at the string binding everything together.

“Yes. In the Flooded District.” Attano paced before her, a murderous expression on his face. “He said Burrows hired him. Burrows and Campbell.”

“Campbell too?” Corvo's voice was sharp, but any other obvious indications of his agitation were well-hidden. His perfect posture was a stark contrast to his twin’s restless movements.

“An Overseer gave me this,” Attano added. “Said it was for Corvo, so it’s probably from your _friend_ in the Abbey, and he probably meant for it to end up in your hands.” He pulled out another envelope and handed that to his twin, the pair of them rolling their eyes at the inability of the rest of the world to distinguish between them. “It’s either gibberish or some kind of code, so it should be easy for you to understand.”

“An anonymous Overseer wouldn’t give you gibberish, Corvo.” His voice was thick with fond exasperation.

“Because you’re such an expert on the behaviour of Overseers, Corvo,” his twin parroted back in the exact same tone, but with an undercurrent of mocking layered beneath it.

“Corvo,” Jessamine said mildly, before they could start bickering, and the twins fell silent. Attano came to a halt, his posture not quite so perfect as his twin’s; he looked more dangerous for it, his hand wrapped casually around the hilt of his blade as he remained on alert.

She skimmed over the documents as dispassionately as she could, but with each new correspondence between Burrows and Daud, and every new contract to kill someone--

The sense of betrayal had receded, but something cold and ruthless had taken root in its place. It closed around her heart like ice, shutting out the part of her that wanted to give Burrows the benefit of the doubt. There was no doubt of Burrows’ culpability, only a clear indication of what he had done, and an unclouded conviction of how she would deal with it.

It was impressive, in a morbid way. The murders attributed to Daud and his gang of assassins had seemed improbable, but they were the tip of the iceberg according to the documents Attano had brought her. And those were just records of the assassinations that Burrows had commissioned, after all. How many other people had Daud killed at the behest of other clients?

“Empress.” It was Attano who broke the silence, uncharacteristically hesitant.

“Yes?” She put aside the latest contract.

“The assassin wanted pardons for him and his men in exchange for his cooperation.”

“Pardons!” The word came out bitter, macabre humour and disbelief mingling.

Attano nodded, though he didn’t look happy about it. “I promised him nothing. The final decision is yours, of course.”

Jessamine looked down at her desk, at the sheets and sheets of evidence of Burrows’ betrayal and Daud’s complicity in it. The ice that had taken hold made everything seem clearer; crystallized, without sentiment to cloud her thoughts. The way forward seemed obvious.

Now it fell to the twins to carry out.

* * *

[transcript of an audiograph found in the hidden room of Dunwall Tower]

Dunwall was in an uproar for months when I chose Corvo - both of them - to be my Royal Protectors. Their appointment still does upset the more conservative elements of my court from time to time.

They cling to tradition as the primary reason - previous Royal Protectors worked alone, and they were all Gristol-born - though other times they’re more than content to pretend neither Corvo exists, much less that there are two of them. I wonder if their detractors would have protested so vehemently if I’d appointed Custis and Morgan Pendleton instead.

At times, it’s as if the twins forget that they’re not a single entity. _I_ forget that, sometimes. They act as one in most instances, without hesitation or disagreement. Their methods may differ, but their goals are the same.

I remember my father’s protector complaining about them, and he wasn’t the only one. The twins unnerved most people, and the nobles and guards were vocal in their objections.

Father couldn’t have sent them both back, though. They were tribute from Duke Abele, and they were skilled with a blade, Attano in particular. But they were cold, not eager to please like so many foreign visitors were; they were wrapped up in each other, and uninterested in pretending otherwise to assuage the concerns of prejudiced nobles. That was what drew me to them, actually. They were polite enough to me, but neither was shy about turning a sharp tongue to the courtiers’ antics or the latest scandal. I found their cutting honesty… refreshing.

Then someone hit on the idea to send Corvo back - he was less skilled with a blade, his tongue too sharp to be curbed - and keep Attano behind.

I’ve never seen them so terrified. I found them holed up in a closet, trying to figure out what to do. They didn’t even notice me at first; Attano was threatening to kill anyone who tried to separate them, while Corvo tried to calm him down. It was a futile effort, considering how frantic Corvo was himself.

It took me a while to get the whole story out of them. Attano seemed suspicious of me, as if he thought I was somehow involved. Perhaps I was - I think my closeness to them was a cause for concern as well, though I didn’t realize the extent of it back then. Corvo just seemed sick with worry.

“I’ll fix this,” I remember saying. “Don’t worry. I’ll put a stop to this.”

They doubted me then, I know they did. But that night, I announced before the whole court that I was appointing Corvo Attano - both of them - as my Royal Protectors.

In truth, I don’t think the outrage their appointment caused has entirely subsided since.

[end of audiograph]

* * *

Attano was really, really bad at hide and seek.

That was the easiest way to tell the twins apart - just ask one of them to play hide and seek. If he was awful, it was Attano. If he was really good, it was Corvo. Simple.

All of the servants or guardsmen or nobles that complained about not being able to tell them apart gave Emily weird looks when she told them the trick, so she didn’t bother to explain which was which anymore, even if they did ask her. They obviously didn’t want to _learn_ how to tell them apart, but if she didn’t tell them, eventually they’d have to.

Probably.

Emily scowled at the thought, then pushed it away. She didn’t want to miss any part of the conversation unfolding in Mother’s office. If she’d had any doubt about which twin was guarding Mother right now, the fact that he hadn’t noticed Emily lurking in the secret passage would’ve dispelled it. Corvo had an eerie ability to tell when she was hiding and watching him, even if they weren’t playing hide and seek; Attano was hopeless at finding her if she didn’t purposely hide herself in easy spots.

 _Daud_ didn’t seem to be having any trouble telling the twins apart. That might have been because he didn’t have both Corvos standing side by side, doing their best to be identical, or maybe it was something to do with the Outsider's mark.

If Attano didn’t kill him, maybe Daud would tell her more about the mark. Neither twin would talk about it, and she barely ever saw them with their gloves off. Then again, Daud had tried to kill Mother, so maybe it would be best if she didn't ask him. He still looked angry now, and Attano didn’t look much better.

“-should just kill him and be done with it,” Attano was saying to Mother. He hadn’t taken his hand off his sword or his eyes off the assassin since Daud had arrived.

“Try it,” Daud sneered.

Maybe it would be better if Corvo were here. He wasn’t as good with a sword as Attano, but he was better at-- _negotiating_ , that’s what he’d call it. It was why he’d been the one to go on the tour, after all. Attano was good at making people scared or angry, but Emily didn’t think that was a good idea here.

“That’s enough, Corvo.” Mother sounded normal enough, but she hadn’t taken her eyes off of Daud since he’d entered the room either. “I have no intention of ordering your death, Daud.”

“So long as I stop taking contracts and kill exclusively for you,” Daud said flatly. “You mentioned that already.” His face was twisted up like a smile, but something important was missing. It was all teeth and no laughter. Emily shivered, glad that Daud didn’t know she was there.

Mother gave Daud the same look she gave Spymaster Burrows when she thought he was being really stupid but was too polite to say it. Emily had tried to copy that look, practicing in front of a mirror in her room, but she didn’t have it just right yet. She didn't think she could have used it on someone like Daud either.

“I want you to give up contract killing, yes, and I want you to work for me. If that work happens to include eliminating a threat - _as a last resort_ \- then so be it.”

Daud scoffed.

“Does that sound unreasonable to you?” Emily shivered again. When Mother took that tone, it was time to _behave_ , or else. “You can think of your appointment as punishment for your crimes, if you’d like.”

“Is that all?” Daud demanded harshly. “You don’t want me to kill Burrows and Campbell as my first act in the capacity of Spymaster. Pardon me, _unofficial_ Spymaster.”

“They will be dealt with, but I appreciate the offer.” Mother's voice made it obvious that she didn't actually appreciate it, though.

Corvo was already dealing with Campbell, as far as Emily knew. That was why he wasn’t here now: he had to meet with an Overseer about-- something. How to deal with Campbell, probably. He wouldn't tell her how Campbell was going to be dealt with, and kept shushing her when she asked him about it. Well, she'd find out eventually.

Daud glanced at Attano, then back to Mother. “What do you need me for, then.”

“The past two weeks have opened my eyes to several truths that I had not considered,” Mother said after a few seconds. “The fact that I do not know every little thing that goes on in my city was already known to me. But that I do not know what goes on with my trusted advisors is far more troubling, and I will avoid having it happen again if I can.”

“And your solution is to appoint someone that you can’t trust instead.”

“I can trust that a steady supply of coin is enough to secure your services. Your work won’t change substantially. You deal in blackmail and intelligence gathering already, I’m sure. The bulk of your work will shift to focus on that, rather than murder.”

“You can’t be serious.” Daud shook his head, but it didn’t seem like he was trying to say no. More like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“I’m dead serious.”

Daud made a harsh sound that Emily realized a moment later was a laugh. Or a bitter shadow of one, anyway. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

“What,” Attano spat. “ _No_.”

“I’ll take the job, for as long as there’s coin to pay me.” Daud bared his teeth in that strange not-smile again, directing it at Attano this time. “Should I start now?”

“This very instant?” Mother raised an eyebrow.

“There’s someone watching us. Has been since the beginning.” Daud tilted his head in the direction of the bookshelf that hid the secret passage.

Emily flinched, her foot scraping loudly against the stone floor as she stepped back. Oops.

“Come out,” Mother said sharply, even as Attano drew his sword.

Well, Emily was in trouble now. There was nothing to do but face the music. She pulled down the lever that opened and closed the hidden door from this side and stepped into Mother’s office.

“Emily,” Mother sighed; Attano sheathed his sword again, looking relieved. “What were you doing in there?”

“Corvo told me to hide from bad people in there. He’s a bad person, isn’t he?” Emily looked up at Daud, getting a good look at him for the first time. He was-- old. Not as old as Burrows, but definitely older than Corvo or Mother. The scar slashing down the right side of his face was even scarier than it had looked on the wanted posters.

Daud barked out that bitter laugh again, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m no worse than the people who hire me.”

“Do you actually believe that?” Attano demanded.

“Enough, both of you. I’ll expect you to be ready to assume the bulk of Burrows’ duties by the time he’s dismissed,” Mother told Daud.

“And when will that be?”

“Uncovering schemes and plots is your job. You tell me.”

Daud narrowed his eyes, but all he said was, “Understood.”

“Wait,” Emily said quickly, before he could leave. He had the mark too, so he could just blink away whenever he wanted. No need to use the door or walk like everyone else - that was part of the reason why Emily wanted the mark for herself. “Can I ask you a question?”

Daud stared at her, then glanced at Mother. Emily looked at her as well, resorting to the pout that Corvo called her “puppy dog look”.

“One question.”

Emily turned back to Daud, grinning, to show him how to smile _properly_. “Were you a pirate? Is that how you got that scar?”

“Was I-- no.” Daud frowned, but he seemed more confused than angry, so Emily didn’t let that discourage her.

“Well then how-?”

“Daud has a lot to prepare for, Emily. You can ask him more questions another day,” Mother said.

“Aww…”

* * *

[transcript of an audiograph found abandoned at the former chamber of commerce]

That black-eyed bastard knew. Of course he knew. He sees everything, and he wouldn’t miss something involving three of the people he marked!

[the sound of something hitting another; a fist against a tabletop, a boot against a wall?]

The first time he appears to me in years. I should have known. “It certainly won’t be boring.” Not for _him_!

[a pause, indistinct sounds; the speaker breathing heavily?]

I should have known. I played right into his hand, and now my men are disappearing from all over Dunwall. It’s ridiculous. How did this happen? Not overnight. The killer twin could stop time. Who knows what other powers they have at their disposal?

No. Don’t think about that. Focus on what can be done to salvage this.

[muttered, barely audible]

I played right into his hand and he still won’t…

[end of audiograph]

* * *

The Attano twins had borne the Outsider’s mark for twenty years now; the only mortal currently alive that had had the mark longer was dear Vera, and she'd lost his interest years ago.

The Outsider should have been bored of the twins by now too. Daud had been marked around the same time, by the Outsider's reckoning, and the assassin had long since grown tiresome. By all accounts, the twins were just as predictable as any others with the mark; the one most called Attano wouldn't hesitate to resort violence to achieve his goals, while Corvo relied on subtler means.

But it was the moments when Corvo was moved to violence, or Attano chose to stay his hand, that kept the Outsider’s attention.

Initially, the Outsider had only intended to mark Corvo. The lengths to which he had been willing to go to remain in Dunwall with his twin would have been _fascinating_ , just as watching the twins adjust to this stark difference between them would have been. But it was harder to predict how a mortal would react when their spirit was summoned to the Void; Corvo had been most persuasive, and the Outsider had decided to mark both twins instead.

Apart from the rare times the twins attended a shrine, the Outsider always appeared before both of them together, and this time was no exception.

They paid little attention to the scenes the Outsider had created for them, blinking past in a rush to see who could reach him first. Burrows at his war table; Campbell grandstanding on a balcony overlooking the Void; Daud and Billie Lurk sneaking through the sewers; Jessamine Kaldwin standing beneath the pavilion, alone-- all those and more flickered past in a few moments.

Attano touched down on the cobblestones a millisecond before Corvo, turning to smirk at his twin triumphantly. Corvo scowled in reply and turned pointedly to the Outsider.

“You seem eager, my dears.” The Outsider strove to treat those he marked with the same detachment, but he had developed a fondness for the twins, and sometimes he allowed it to show. “A clear path forward is ahead of you now; there is no uncertainty or strife to cloud the way.”

The Outsider glanced at Attano. “You have a spymaster to expose. Will you spill all his secrets for the world to know, or will you settle for spilling his blood?”

He turned to Corvo. “And you have a High Overseer to disgrace. Will excommunication satisfy you, or is it a more gory end that you crave?”

Silence fell as the twins mulled over the Outsider's words. Or didn't, as was their wont. That was one of the things he liked about them: they would consider his opinion, but ultimately the decision would be based on their own judgment rather than choosing the alternative that they thought would please him the most.

“There is one other matter that needs to be addressed, however.”

That got their attention; Attano frowned up at him, while Corvo’s eyes simply narrowed slightly. The Outsider let them wonder for a few moments, amused that both assumed he was referring in some way to Daud. Neither of them trusted the de facto Spymaster yet, though that could change in the coming days.

Or perhaps it wouldn’t. Daud had been thwarted, but it could still come crashing down. Their enemies remained free for the time being; success was not a guarantee, though the odds were weighted in the twins’ favour.

The Outsider looked forward to watching the future unfold. Though he gave his mark to those who could change their fate and the fates of those around them, watching one he marked pushed to the limit of their endurance, or beyond, was diverting in its own way. For a time.

“You have doubts about the Empress’ decision to trust Daud.”

Had they the ability to speak, the twins would have refuted this statement loudly and vehemently. But they had a tendency to ignore what the Outsider said when he let them speak openly, and this was too important to allow them such distractions.

“It only makes sense, I imagine,” the Outsider said, shading his tone with disinterest. “Your sense of loyalty is something Daud no longer understands, if he ever did. Likewise, you cannot possibly understand or trust the motivation of greed. But perhaps there is a way to overcome this; a test, if you will.”

The Outsider knew his word would not be enough to sway the twins. He couldn’t say whether trusting Daud was the most beneficial course of action for them to take. Daud could fail, and the results would be disastrous for them. But the twins could fail too, with similar outcomes.

There was one predictable bait that the twins would fall for, if it was employed sparingly, and that was the impulse to needle a perceived weakness in an individual that they disliked until the subject capitulated or they became diverted with some other matter.

“It’s a mystery. I assure you, Daud loves mysteries. This one starts with a name: Delilah.”

The twins woke.

* * *

[transcript of a ruined audiograph found at a heretic’s shrine]

A machine to record the tedious thoughts of tedious people. What will those natural philosophers come up with--

[the speaker’s voice distorts, lost in a haze of static]

[distantly, whale song can be heard]

[end of audiograph]

* * *

“You should tell him,” Corvo said for what felt like the hundredth time, his eyes tracking the path of his twin as he paced the length of the sitting room. “You're the one who's been dealing with him.”

He couldn't deny that. It felt like he'd seen Daud more often than he'd seen his own twin in the past few days, and he didn't appreciate it. The only time they saw each other was at night, when they were too tired to do more than talk a bit about their day. But they were busy enough that leaving the mystery of Delilah to Daud was their only real option; now they simply had to decide who would get the unenviable task of telling him.

“Every time I see him, my urge to kill him increases,” he said, stopping in front of Corvo’s couch. It was true; the audacious things that Daud said made his blood boil. He'd met people that pissed him off before - most people did that, in some small way or another - but he didn't usually have to keep spending time in their company. Sometimes that was because he did snap and kill them, but he didn't feel particularly bad about it.

Corvo nodded gravely up at him, and for a second he thought his twin was going to be reasonable about this. “It's because you're both so similar.”

He jerked back, feeling like he'd been slapped. “What.”

“Well, you’re both highly competent killers. And now you both serve Jessamine too,” Corvo said blithely, unfazed by his glare.

“The _three_ of us serve Jess, and you're not-- terrible at killing.” As he said the words, he knew it was the wrong tack to take, but it was too late by then.

“That last bit was so convincing.” Corvo’s look was flat and unamused.

“You don't need to be the best killer, I'm the one who kills people,” he tried. “I couldn't possibly make nice with nobles and--”

“You're telling Daud,” Corvo declared, unmoved by his fumbling attempts to recover.

He groaned and flopped down on the couch beside him, sprawling out half on top of his twin. Corvo unbent enough to wrap an arm around his shoulders, his fingers teasing at the sleep-tangled strands of his hair

“Do I have to?” His voice sounded on the verge of a whine, but it was only Corvo here to hear it.

“Yes.” Corvo tugged lightly on the hank of hair in his hand. “If you leave now, maybe you'll catch him asleep.”

The thought was a tempting one. Daud was definitely the type to sleep with a blade or five nearby. If he woke him, Daud might attack him and then he could tell Jessamine he'd killed Daud in self-defense--

“Better hurry,” Corvo drawled, all playful teasing now that he knew his twin would do what he wanted. “The Outsider made it sound like Daud will appreciate the information.”

He snorted at that, but rose to get dressed for a trip to the Flooded District all the same.

* * *

The sentries wouldn't attack him on sight anymore, but that was no reason to let himself be seen. It wasn't often he had the opportunity to use his powers without risk of being spotted by someone who would report to the Overseers, and he intended to take advantage of that fact.

Daud had changed up the patrol routes, but it was still fairly easy to slip through and arrive undetected at the chamber of commerce. Disappointingly, Daud himself was awake, alert and in the midst of issuing orders to several of his subordinates when he walked in from the observation platform.

The assembled Whalers tensed, hands going for blades. There were only five of them, though; even without their weakness to his ability to stop time, it wouldn’t have been much of a fight. Daud only cast an annoyed glance over his shoulder before finishing the briefing; it was about some noble or other. He tuned it out when he didn’t recognize the subject’s name.

“What is it,” Daud ground out when the last of his assassins had dispersed.

He’d used the journey there to mull over the best way to pass on the Outsider’s message, though in that moment he was tempted to just give Daud the name and get it over with. Spending time with Corvo or Jessamine was infinitely more appealing than enduring Daud’s company.

“Has the Outsider appeared to you recently?” He managed to keep his tone civil, trying to imagine how Corvo would deal with this situation. Corvo unnerved people, but he also aggravated them as easily as breathing; his twin just scared people. Most people.

Daud tensed, his eyes narrowing. “Not since before our first meeting.”

How _quaint_ for Daud to refer to his attempted murder as their first meeting. He gritted his teeth, his hand twitching toward his blade.

“Did he tell you something?” Daud spoke before he could think of a proper reply to that ridiculous pronouncement, taking a step closer.

“Yes.”

A strange expression crossed Daud’s face then, his lip curling back in a sneer before he remembered himself. If Corvo had been there, he probably could have deciphered what the look meant; in his absence, his twin was left in the dark. It didn’t matter. He didn’t care what Daud thought.

“What did he say?” Daud’s voice sounded different as well, an undercurrent of desperation colouring his tone. “Did he-” Daud cut himself off, shaking his head.

“He gave us a name to look into,” he said. It was mostly the truth. “A mystery, he called it.”

Daud frowned. “A mystery.”

“Yes. He just told us the name, and then we woke up.” He shrugged.

“Why are you telling me this?” Daud paced over to his desk, busying himself with various documents there. The room was still in disarray, but it did look tidier than it had the first time he’d seen it. The board of past and present targets had been taken away, at least.

“We don’t have time to chase the name down,” he said. That part was completely true, though he could clear his schedule easily enough by simply killing Burrows-- “You can do it instead.”

Daud gave him a disbelieving look. “The Outsider told you to do something and you’re just going to foist it off on someone else?”

“What, don’t think you’re up to it?” he shot back, annoyed. This conversation wasn’t going the way he’d thought it would; he shouldn’t had lied about why the Outsider had given them the name. Though-- Daud’s behaviour had revealed _something_ , he simply wasn’t versed enough to figure out what exactly that something was.

“Of course I can do it,” Daud snapped. “Just tell me the damn name already!”

“It’s Delilah.”

The name prompted no more recognition in Daud than it had in him or Corvo. “Delilah,” Daud repeated slowly, frowning. “And he didn’t say anything else?”

“Nothing about Delilah. Whoever she is.” He couldn’t imagine that Delilah would be much of a threat, considering he hadn’t heard of her before, but the fact that the Outsider had thought the name worthy of mention suggested otherwise.

“I’ll look into it.” Daud sounded distracted, as if the mystery of Delilah’s identity had already consumed him.

“Don’t fuck it up,” he said.

“I won’t fuck it up,” Daud scoffed.

“See that you don’t. Or I’ll kill you.”


End file.
